Emily's Routine
by CacuNoSilence
Summary: Emily is crazy for a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman. (First fanfic, so please be easy on me!)
1. Chapter 1

***Author's Note*:** I've never posted fanfic before, but I cannot get this story out of my head. It'll be short and I promise there will be more plot in the second chapter. Please r/r! :)

She felt the younger woman's fingers hook around her belt loops and followed the gentle tug through the darkened apartment. Down a hallway, lips on her neck. Right turn, her hand finds the blonde's chest. Through a door and Emily settles into a familiar sort of dominance. Her arm around the thin woman's waist, Emily trails hot kisses down her neck and over her shoulder. Kicking off her shoes, she lays the woman down on her own bed, removing her disheveled top and blue lace bra in one fluid motion.

Feeling nails softly gripping her shoulder blades, Emily leaves a faint whiskey scent on the blonde's chest. A slow, flat drag of her tongue over a pink nipple and Emily blows lightly, drawing it to a peak. The younger woman is begging her not to tease and Emily moves one hand fully down her side.

Reveling in the way the woman's taut abs tense and shiver, Emily returns her attention to starving breasts. Licking and sucking, she doesn't stop until long after the woman lost the ability to ask her to move her ministrations further south. Feeling the blonde beginning to shake, Emily moves away from her chest and feathers kisses over her sides, moving to undo the button on her jeans. The blonde lifts her hips and the final remnants of her clothing hit the floor. Emily moves up to kiss her sweetly on the cheek, before teasing her nails along the woman's thighs. Blue eyes meet brown in a desperate threat and Emily chuckles as she obliges.

Entering the woman beneath her with two fingers, Emily faintly hears a string of curses which includes her name. Lost in the sweet scent and tight pull on her fingers, she hears her name again as she falls into a steady, patient rhythm. Hot, open-mouthed kisses places against the blonde's thighs and Emily hears her whimper. She slows the pace of her hand the slightest bit and quickly flicks the younger woman's clit with her tongue, just once. Then, pulling back, Emily increases the speed of her fingers, _in and out_, _in and out_, until the woman is bucking her hips and moaning loudly.

Finally, Emily adds a third finger and allows herself to fully worship the woman with every bit of desperate hunger inside her. There it is again, the raging, "Emily" wrapped in a string of expletives, but this time it's nearly a scream and Emily can't help but keep going until the woman comes not once, but twice more.

Laying beside the blonde, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Emily turns to kiss the woman's cheek and is startled as her eyes meet glowing blue orbs, now two shades darker than usual. The svelte woman reaches up with a trembling hand and places it determinedly against Emily's face. Running a thumb over her cheek, she moves in to kiss the older woman and Emily gently complies. The woman trails her hand down to Emily's collarbone and plays it like a jazz record until the brunette's moans make the melody.

Suddenly, the woman swings her leg over Emily's, shifting to straddle her hips. Now fully pinned under the young woman, Emily shudders and closes her eyes. Taking a breath and opening them again, she finds a blue gaze deeper than she has yet seen as the blonde tugs lightly at her jeans, asking permission to remove them. Now fully comprehending the woman's intentions, Emily lifts her hips and allows the blonde complete control.

The younger woman is good, and finds Emily's sensitive spots easily. The discomfort of vulnerability long forgotten, Emily is lost in her body's responses; nerves singing, toes shaking, fingers tangled in golden hair. Senses overwhelmed and every coherent thoughts far away, she comes apart in the younger woman's strong hold. Barely, she hears herself scream, "Jennifer" just as everything explodes.

Coming back to herself, Emily notices a surprising lack of guilt. Her emotions have all flip-flopped, yet remain the same. Mostly, she is exhausted. And to her surprise, the blonde doesn't make any attempts at conversation. She wraps her arm gently over the older woman and closes her eyes to sleep beside her. It isn't until the next morning she asks, "So, who's this '_Jennifer'_?".


	2. Chapter 2

***Author's Note*:** Totally didn't mean to even write this chapter. I really thought this was going to be a two-shot, but apparently not! Clearly, I've no idea what I'm doing. More to come, thanks for the reviews!

The following Friday, Emily scowls into her third cup of coffee for the afternoon as she sneaks yet another glance at her watch. She felt like she'd had half an hour of work left for four hours now. It wasn't that Emily disliked her job. On the contrary, she rather enjoyed it. Even the nine-hour paperwork days wouldn't be all that bad... If only her desk wasn't positioned directly across from a certain media liason's office.

Emily sighs and runs her hand through her hair, grabbing another file from the dwindling pile stacked neatly at the edge of her desk. Chuckling, Morgan teases her impatience, grateful for a distraction from his own mountain of files. "Relax, Princess. Another half hour and you'll be on your way to your hot date with Mr. Vonnegut and a bottle of red."

Trying to make her joking sound as lighthearted as his, Emily replies, "Oh, I think it'll take more than wine tonight."

Eyebrows raising ridiculously onto his forehead, Morgan begins an invitation to join him for a night out. Knowing that once the man gets going he never takes no for an answer, Emily quickly cuts him short with some excuse about catching up on Mad Men or something equally uninteresting to him. Almost subconsciously, her mind registers heels clicking smoothly down a short flight of stairs and into the bullpen. Morgan's witticisms become grainy and distant, the clicking now paired with a scent Emily would know anywhere.

Her heart drops an inch or so in her chest as the source of her distress rounds a corner and appears in front of her. Peering into Emily's now empty coffee mug, Jennifer Jareau says with a smile, "I was just going to get one last refill. You want one?"

"No, let me get it." Taking a breath to steady her shaking hands, Emily takes JJ's mug and manages to quip, "I was just looking for an excuse to get away from Morgan." Morgan feigns hurt and Emily strains to hear JJ making fun of him as she walks off towards the coffee machine.

Distractedly, Emily pours a sugar and a half into JJ's mug and muses over the way her breath catches in her throat at the thought of making the younger woman coffee every morning. Something better than the coffee shop sludge she was currently pouring. Real espresso. _'Dammit_, Prentiss!', Emily curses as she spills on her sleeve, burning the top of her wrist. Shaking her head in utter shame, she picks up the mugs and returns to her desk, where JJ is now perched, dangling her long legs over the edge.

Handing the blonde her mug, Emily quietly chooses a diety to thank when her hands remain steady enough to keep all the coffee in each mug. JJ takes a sip and moans graciously, causing even Morgan to stop his rambling. "God Emily, I don't understand how you make coffee taste _so good_."

Rolling her eyes in gentle amusement, Emily shakes her head, "Jayje, I make your coffee exactly how you make it. There is literally no way it tastes any different."

"It does, though. It's so much better." Sighing as though all were suddenly right in her world, she hops off Emily's desk and gives a light squeeze to the older agent's shoulder. "I suppose I should try to finish up the last of today's work. You know... Since I have family staying with me tonight." She pauses to look pointedly at Morgan before continuing, "So I can't stay late... Because I will be busy tonight." Another pointed look at Morgan and he's sighing dramatically. "Alright, alright. No one's up for partying with me tonight, I can take a hint."

"No, you can't." Emily and JJ laugh almost to the point of tears as, out of nowhere, Reid joins the conversation and the three of them respond in unison. After a moment, JJ catches her breath and gives a little wave as she walks her long legs the short distance back to her office.

Looking at her watch, Emily is pleased to see 1657. Giving her coffee a light swirl, she decides to leave her thirst for the whiskey she can see in her future and punches out two minutes early.

Making her way to the parking garage, Emily finds herself almost giddy at the thought of getting to her car and beginning a very Jennifer-less evening. Not that Emily ever truly escapes the blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman who seems to consume her every thought these days. 'And this is the source of all my problems, isn't it?', thinks Emily.

She, Agent Prentiss, had been trained her entire life to keep her composure. To conceal the truth without lying. To sort things out. To think through even her deepest emotions in a logical, calculated manner. Yet somehow... That all flew out the window with a gentle swish of blonde hair, a "thank you" that was almost a moan as she handed the younger woman her coffee, a wink and a proud smile after she took down a fully grown man and put him in handcuffs.

It baffles Agent Prentiss to an infuriating extent. Not only could she keep her cover better than almost anyone in the bureau, but she had even trained herself to overcome her nerdiness and flirt with the best of them. She had made an infamous terrorist fall in love with her, god-dammit. _Why_ did a soccer player from Pennsylvania haunt her every thought? Why didn't Jennifer Jareau fit in one of the compartments she was so fucking infamous for?!

But Emily supposed that was just it. There was no logically thinking through the tidal wave of an electric shock that coursed through her body at the slightest contact with Jennifer. She wasn't some pawn Emily could win over or ever dare to use. She was the sunrise.

Cursing herself for entertaining these thoughts for so long, Emily shook her head violently before setting her face hard and turning the key, ready for the night to begin washing over her.


	3. Chapter 3

***Author's Note*: **Sorry for the wait, I had my wisdom teeth removed and haven't felt up to writing! Anyway, this is the final chapter. I really don't like it and it's fairly likely I may end up re-writing it. However, I feel bad for the delay, so I feel I should at least post this for now. Review and let me know if I should try again?

* * *

Several hours later, Jennifer Jareau reluctantly shimmied her way past a brawny bouncer into the largest, most infamous gay bar in D.C. "Joe, I still don't understand why we had to come here of all places. It's not exactly... my scene," JJ implored of her cousin one last time.

"Because, my sweet, this is my vacation. Tonight is about me, which is why you will most certainly not be calling me Joe all night. Now, if I let go of you, will you run home?"

Shaking her wrist free, JJ chose to ignore half her cousin's words and simply replied, "Well, I will not be calling you _'Josephine' _all night".

"Fine, darling, how about I buy you a drink and we settle on Joey until you're a little drunker. What would you like?"

"I'll just take a beer, please. Something dark."

Winking, Joey replied, "Oh yes, dear. You'll fit right in," and flitted off in the direction of the bar.

* * *

A mere hour after they'd arrived at the club, JJ was leaning her back against the bar, weary of turning women down. Halfway into their first drink, Joey had abandoned her for a steely-eyed foreigner who hardly spoke a word of English. Growing tired of arguing her sexuality with complete strangers, JJ was beginning to consider ditching her cousin. He probably wasn't going home with her tonight anyway.

Leaning up on her toes a little to scan the crowd, JJ searched lazily and gave up quickly. Joey was nowhere to be seen (which was uncharacteristic of him, suggesting he'd found a darker corner on purpose). Rolling her eyes at the thought, JJ began turning towards the bar to close her tab when she caught a glimpse of something that made her do a double-take.

Head jerking violently back towards the exact middle of the dance floor, JJ's jaw hit the floor as her eyes landed on the woman with the perfect coffee: her coworker, Emily Prentiss.

Except this was _not _the Agent Prentiss whose hands shook as she handed JJ her coffee every morning. The way those hips were moving... It was the Emily Prentiss saunter _on fire._ The way those curls swayed loosely with the beat... JJ fought to ignore the rapid drumming inside her chest and startled when the woman sitting next to her at the bar caught her gaze and interrupted her thoughts.

"That's Rey. She's kind of a legend here."

JJ considered telling the woman that she in fact knew who she was and that her name was definitely _not_ Rey, but wanting to know what else the woman had to say, she just nodded in what she hoped was a casual manner.

"A legend, hm? What for?"

The woman chuckled harshly and replied curtly, "Take her home and find out yourself."

Hoping she'd continue, JJ stayed quiet and her patience was quickly rewarded.

"I saw the way you were watching her dance. No, don't argue, I already don't believe you. The point is, well, let's just say the dance floor isn't the only place that woman has serious moves."

JJ choked a little and finally tore her gaze away from Emily to properly look at the woman at the bar. "You've got to be kidding me. She's a 'legend' because she's good in bed?"

"No, not _good_," the woman spat out, sounding as though she thought JJ was quite dense. "Do you really think women would travel from around the world for _good_? She's not just good. She's the best there is. Sleep with her and you're ruined for anyone else."

"Around the world? You can't be serious."

"You're really not understanding me, blondie." Rolling her eyes impatiently, the Latina woman began to point. "That one there? Denver. Miss Purple Dress is from Seattle. Those two are Greece and Italy, respectively. The blonde one Rey's avoiding is from Norway. It was just locals when she started here about a year or so ago. But I guess she's slept her way through all the girls in the district. At least, the ones who interest her."

Feeling slightly nauseous, JJ turned away from the woman and solemnly watched Emily dance. She felt she might float away, if only she wasn't so weighed down.

Suddenly turning back towards the woman, JJ begged of her with a more than desperate whimper, "So, I don't understand. She's here, like, every week? She brings some chick home and they fuck and that's what she's known for?"

A smirk growing on the woman's face, she replied haughtily, "First of all, honey, women bring _her_ home, not vice versa. No one has ever seen her place. Second, I suppose I haven't told you the best part."

Enjoying having JJ's full attention, the woman paused for dramatic effect and ordered another drink. Finally continuing, the woman began slowly, "Remember earlier I pointed out that Rey is avoiding that lanky blonde? Well... women like that are the only ones who have any real effect on her. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, toned. With a gentle sort of confidence. Like a candle, rather than a firecracker like herself."

JJ laughed at the thought of Emily being described as a firecracker, but her laugh turned bitter as she realized that maybe she didn't know Emily at all. There was definitely a piece of her JJ had managed to miss entirely.

"What do you mean, 'have an effect on her'? You mean she has a type?"

"Oh, honey, she has a type alright. And you're the definition of it. But I suggest you be careful."

"Careful?"

"Yeah. Don't fuck her if you're one of those women whose hearts live in their vagina."

Growing impatient, JJ held her gaze and the woman finally relented, all of her knowledge of Emily tumbling over her wet lips in a bitter, messy fashion. "Usually, Rey will go home with a woman and fuck her senseless. Then she'll leave, or maybe she'll fall asleep and let the chick cook her breakfast before she dashes the next morning. But she always fucks the woman first, and doesn't let them get her off in return."

JJ stared as though this woman had sprouted antlers. _'Maybe she's been pulling my leg this whole time. Wouldn't that be great fun for her? I bet she's never seen Emily before in her life.'_

The woman pointed her finger almost accusingly at JJ, "Until a woman like you comes along. She would let you fuck her, blondie. She would come apart in your arms and... Are you ready for it? This is truly the best part... She would scream another woman's name."

The woman laughed almost maniacally, slamming her hands on the bar, tears rolling down her cheeks and now JJ was sure the woman was drunk or batty. Maybe both. Emily _never _forgot a name, she wouldn't make a mistake like that repeatedly. JJ stepped forward, about to walk away from the crazy Latina when, through her laughter, JJ heard her making a cruel imitation of a woman orgasming, crying, "Jennifer! Oh, Jennifer!"

JJ whipped around and felt her hand gripping the collar of the woman's shirt, out of her control. "What did you say?"

Sobering immediately, the woman began to stutter, "Jennifer... It's always Jennifer. Must be head over heels for her. People here wonder if its a wife who died, or, or a..."

But JJ wasn't listening anymore. Releasing the stuttering woman from her grasp. JJ turned slowly around and settled her gaze on Emily, this time watching with careful consideration.

Begging herself to be observant, JJ watched as Emily danced. She took in the way her body moved, the way her eyes closed as a song would reach its climax. This time, there was no ignoring the racing of her heart or the rush of adrenaline coursing through her. As the Norwegian girl fought through the crowd and settled her hands on Emily's hips, JJ seemed to lose control of herself.

No idea what she was doing, JJ found herself placing a hand on Emily's shoulder before she realized she had started moving. Fighting back an inexplicable urge to knock the Norwegian girl out, JJ looked into Emily's wide eyes and simply stated, "I believe I'm the blonde you've been looking for."

Emily began to stutter, clueless as to what she could possibly say. "JJ, I..."

But JJ cut her off, shaking her head. "I hear you prefer my full name."

Trembling, Emily blushed and JJ, thinking she'd never seen anyone look so terrified, decided to have mercy on her.

"Take me to your place, Em. Tonight, I am going to hear my name on your lips and in the morning, you'll make my coffee perfectly. Just like you always do."

* * *

P.S. If anyone made the connection as to where Emily's fake name came from, feel free to give yourself a slow clap. ;)


End file.
